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<title>A Chance You Have To Take With Love || good omens figure skating au for do it with style reverse bang by AnironSidh</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412927">A Chance You Have To Take With Love || good omens figure skating au for do it with style reverse bang</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnironSidh/pseuds/AnironSidh'>AnironSidh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Celebrities, Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Depression, Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang, Figure Skaters AU, Happy Ending, Ice Skating, Inspired by Art, M/M, Modern Era</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:28:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,072</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412927</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnironSidh/pseuds/AnironSidh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Poised to become one of the greatest figure skaters of his generation, Anthony Crowley feels on top of the world. That is, until a fateful accident following a risky move that threatens his career and everything he’s worked so hard for his entire life.<br/>He’s ready to give it all up for a retired life of doubt and spiraling depression when someone new steps into his life, intent on dragging him back into the spotlight. Aziraphale seems like an angel sent to save him, but can Crowley even be saved, or is he doomed to fall into obscurity and disappoint everyone who believes in him once again?<br/>-<br/>Thanks to nads (teslatherat) for the amazing art, and thanks to dashicra1 and sofija_B on discord for helping beta this fic! More art will be included in later chapters!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley &amp; Anathema Device, Crowley &amp; Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens), Crowley/Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens), endgame ineffable husbands</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Chance You Have To Take With Love || good omens figure skating au for do it with style reverse bang</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadzieja/gifts">Nadzieja</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>     Crowley forced himself to let out the breath he’d been holding since stepping out onto the ice seconds ago. This time would be different, it bloody well <em> had </em>to be. Hours upon hours of practice until his body screamed for a rest, all for this performance. </p><p>     “For their free skate program, Anthony Crowley and Lucius Morningstar from Great Britain.”</p><p>     He glanced up at his partner’s face as they reached the center of the rink and assumed their starting position. Lucius looked down blankly at him, looking as unimpressed as usual. </p><p>     Crowley barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes as the music began. </p><p>     This, he could do. He could ignore the arguments they’d had during practice, the constant nagging of his manager to ‘sort things out’, the pressure to perform perfectly with a partner he’d found impossible to deal with as their stardom grew… here, he could let it all go and simply <em> be </em>. He could be Anthony Crowley, world famous figure skater and a rising star in his sport, instead of Crowley, queer anxiety-ridden disaster. </p><p>     Lucius remained impassive as he spun Crowley around and lifted him into the air. The first few moves of their set were relatively easy, especially compared to the rest of the show. </p><p>     “Ready?” Lucius muttered under his breath as he pulled Crowley close after a spin. </p><p>     Crowley ran though the move once more in his head and nodded. They’d practiced it for what felt like <em> hours </em>, meant to be the one thing that pushed them to the top of the competitors. He hadn’t seen any other team attempt the throw triple axel yet, so it could be what set them apart from the rest. </p><p>     The throw into the jump went as smoothly as it had in practice at first, Crowley grinning despite himself. At least, until Lucius let go of his waist, that is. </p><p>     But then his stomach plummeted. The angle was all wrong, not at all like it had been the dozen times they’d practiced it. Crowley moved as quickly as he could to right himself in an attempt to continue the jump without losing too many points, but the ground was coming closer way too fast, and he automatically braced for impact, Lucius wasn’t doing anything <em> why </em> wasn’t his partner helping him… and then his leg hit the ice with a sickening <em> crack </em>, his head swimming in pain. </p><p>     “I… I didn’t mean to fall,” he murmured just before everything went pitch black. </p><p>-</p><p>     The soft beeping sound was the first thing to break through, followed by the weirdly sterile smell that surrounded him. There wasn’t much pain, surprisingly, at least not much that made it through the fog that filled his head. </p><p>     Crowley slowly eased his eyes open, wincing at the burst of bright light until he adjusted to the bright whiteness of the room. </p><p>     "You're finally awake," a familiar voice spoke from his left. Crowley managed to turn his head, sighing when Beelzebub came into view. His manager looked mildly pissed off, their default mood, but they looked concerned for a moment when he groaned in pain from the movement. </p><p>     "What-" A cough cut him off mid-question, Beelzebub handing him a tissue. "What happened? Lucius…”</p><p>     “Abandoned you,” they sneered. “I haven’t seen him here yet, just back at the hotel.”</p><p>     “He’s right here, and he can <em> hear </em> you,” a sardonic voice snapped from the door, earning an eye roll from Beelzebub. Lucius stepped into the room and stopped at the foot of Crowley’s hospital bed. </p><p>     Crowley raised an eyebrow. “So? I’d assume you have an excuse for not showing up until now.”</p><p>     “I can’t imagine why I should,” Lucius shot back. “Seeing as <em> I’m </em> not the one who ruined our chances at an Olympic spot, now am I?”</p><p>     <em> What? </em> He hadn’t ruined anything, his part of the spin had been damn perfect. </p><p>     “It looked like <em> you </em> fucked up your handling from where I was sitting,” Beelzebub said, crossing the room to jab their finger into Lucius’ chest. “Now <em> I’ve </em> got to deal with an injured client because of you, but I’ll toss your sorry arse out of here myself if you don’t stop giving him crap about something that isn’t his bloody fault. Got it?”</p><p>     Lucius stepped back, glancing over at Crowley with a sneer, and shrugged. “Fine, I’ll be out looking for a new partner. <em> I </em> can’t afford to miss much time before next season.”</p><p>     Beelzebub scoffed as Lucius swept out of the room, collapsing back into their chair with a huff. “You could do so much better than him. We’ll find a partner for next season who won’t bloody drop you, the doctor said it’ll be a few months with rehab but-”</p><p>     “I’m not skating next season.” Crowley stared at the ceiling instead of meeting his manager’s shocked gaze. </p><p>     “Time off isn’t a bad idea,” Beelzbub admitted, “but if you’re gone too long…”</p><p>     Crowley shrugged. “I don’t care, Bee. I <em> need </em> a break. From skating, from competition, just… from everything. I push myself so hard just for shit like this to happen and…” he sniffled, but Beelzebub was one of the few people who was allowed to see emotions from him like this. “I just need a break. ‘M sure you’ll be busy with someone new-”</p><p>     “No,” they interrupted him, shaking their head. “When you’re ready to go back, I’ll stil be here to manage you. Like you could find someone else to deal with your shit.” He rolled his eyes at the tease, but it still got a smile out of him. </p><p>     “Thanks, Bee,” he murmured. </p><p>     They leaned back in their chair as they replied, “Just focus on getting better, Crowley, and we’ll see how you feel about things then, yeah? Relax with those blasted plants you’ve got.”</p><p>     Crowley snorted. “Try to finally get the bloody things to listen to me.”</p><p>-</p><p>     Beelzbub helped him settle back into his Mayfair flat, making him sit down and making tea in their usual gruff-but-somehow-caring way, and refused to leave until he’d taken a shower (with his cast wrapped up ridiculously tight in plastic) and gotten settled on his couch with his box set of <em> Golden Girls </em> playing. They sat on the couch with him, sipping at a glass of wine until Crowley drifted off from the pain meds they’d stuffed into him. He faintly felt a hand fix his hair, which he would’ve been fussing over had he been aware enough, and a ‘goodnight, sleepyhead’. </p>
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